


Held My Breath For A Decade

by Kapua



Series: Just the Beating of Hearts (Flash Challenge) [13]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, F/F, Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge (The Witcher), magic baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kapua/pseuds/Kapua
Summary: The angsty prequel to Acres of Longing, Mountain of Tenderness: or, how Tissaia found a way to cure Yennefer's infertility and give her a magic baby.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Just the Beating of Hearts (Flash Challenge) [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878580
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	Held My Breath For A Decade

**Author's Note:**

> Goldfish00 requested I post the angsty prequel, so here ya go lol.

Tissaia runs her fingers over the items she's gathered. A wide variety of herbs and other ingredients, a mortar and pestle, a piece of wood singed into charcoal, and a dagger cover the table in front of her. It's taken the better part of a year to find everything--not just the ingredients, but the spell itself, which is now etched into her mind.

She didn't set out with the intention of using arcane magic. When she left Yennefer in Rinde, all she wanted was to fix things. Because even though she'd said she had given the younger woman everything she could, she knows that's not true--knows there is still more that she can give and has simply chosen not to. The only way to repair things between them now, the only way that seems like it will mean anything to Yennefer, is to find a way to give her the baby she so desperately wants.

And so Tissaia has thrown herself into the task with a fervor. It gave her something to focus on other than remembering the cold look in Yennefer's eyes, and she's made slow but steady progress as she worked her way through the old magics.

She'd known from the beginning that it would not be simple. As she's told every girl who ever passed through the halls of Aretuza, you can not create something from nothing. There is always a balance, and she knew the cost would be high for what Yennefer sought.

The spell she finally unearthed was an ancient one. There were no records of the last time that it had been performed, and the margins of the crumbling parchment it was written on were covered with scrawled notes about the intricacies of how it worked. It was far from ideal, but Tissaia knew she was capable of it--was probably one of, if not the only, person capable of it.

The fire crackles in the hearth as Tissaia measures the herbs and grinds them into a paste, dabbing runes onto her skin. She draws the necessary sigils on the floor with the charcoal and sits with a copper bowl in front of her, the dagger resting across her lap.

She sits there for a few minutes, breathing and grounding herself. If she makes even the tiniest misstep, the ritual will kill her in an instant, and it will all be for nothing. Violet eyes burn behind her closed eyelids as she tries to center herself, reminding her of why she is risking this. 

No matter what lies she tells herself, she can't avoid the truth forever. Yennefer is precious to her ( _loved_ , whispers a voice shoved deep down in her chest). Doing this ritual is tantamount to admitting as such. But this is the only way--her only chance to fix the pain she'd unintentionally caused for the one person who she wants nothing more than to protect.

She murmurs the incantation, words blurring into each other as the spell weaves an intricate web through the air. Without stopping the casting, Tissaia begins to combine the various ingredients together in the bowl. Her chaos infuses the mixture as she works, and when the preparation is complete she grasps the dagger and brings the point to the outside edge of her wrist. She brings it down in a short, sharp motion, and blood wells in the cut before dripping into the bowl.

As her blood mixes with the rest of the ingredients, Tissaia feels an abrupt pull from deep inside her. It's like something hungry is clawing at her insides, scraping her magic out of her from within, and she forces down the jolt of fear at what might happen if she can't maintain control of the spell. She forces her voice to keep speaking the necessary words even as her vision goes white around the edges, until the chaos in the air has been tamed and forced into submission and lies distilled in the potion in front of her. 

When she feels the tension break and recede, Tissaia slumps next to the bowl. After a few moments to gather herself, she conjures a vial and carefully lifts the bowl, arms trembling with even that small effort. She pours the potion into the vial and caps it before leaning back to rest against the floor. 

Later, she'll blame it on the delirium from expending all of her magic stores so rapidly, but just for a minute she closes her eyes and lets herself dream of what might be possible in a different life. One where she could give Yennefer this potion and be met with warmth rather than icy anger, where they could be happy together with their child (and it will be _their_ child, no matter if Yennefer realizes it or not--it could be nothing else when it is Tissaia's very essence that has made the child possible). 

Tissaia shoves herself to her feet abruptly, blinking hard. It's foolish to torment herself with fantasy. She knew what this spell would mean, and she will gladly suffer a lifetime of longing if it means that she can finally, _finally_ bring Yennefer the happiness the younger woman so deserves. 

###

When she gives Yennefer the potion and is asked what strings are attached, it's a moment of weakness that has her replying, "None, if you don't want them." 

It's an opening, an offer of a different way forward should Yennefer want it, but the raven-haired mage scoffs at the words. Tissaia portals away before she can do anything foolish like confess her feelings, and she swallows down the tears that threaten to come at the knowledge that Yennefer will always be just out of reach for her.

She tries to remember the split second where the younger woman's eyes softened as she gave her the potion, and she curses this new heartache she has created for herself.

But at least Yennefer will be happy; that will be enough.

It has to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I laughed when I went back and re-read the 1500-word outline I did of the angsty fertility prompt. Maybe will post it on tumblr for fun since I don't think I will ever write the rest of it now that I've filled the prompts with these flash fics :)
> 
> Send me more prompts/say hi in the comments or on tumblr @kapuahiwahiwa!


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